


Recovery

by FightTheThorn



Series: Father & Orphan [2]
Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Awkward Romance, Awkwardness, Cute Ending, Cutesy, Daddy Kink, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FightTheThorn/pseuds/FightTheThorn
Summary: After following the trail of a summoned demon and convincing Gentleman Johnny Marcone to allow him entry into his charity ball, Harry faces his biggest threat yet: repairing his relationship with Michael Carpenter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission I wrote for a friend. I think it turned out really well, actually. For those that have an issue with Michael and Harry having a relationship, this is in an AU where Charity died giving birth to Molly. Literally everything is the same, except Charity isn't in the picture. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story and if you would like to commission me, I am open!

“You want to come to my charity ball at the Fairmont Chicago - Millennium Park? Undercover for one of your missions, Dresden?” Marcone paused, thinking about the request. He intertwined his fingers, staring at me with an unreadable look in his eye.

The mere idea of asking Marcone for anything left a bad taste in my mouth. It seemed like I’d need another way in judging how this conversation was going, Marcone seemed too reluctant. After all, every event I’d ever attended ended with… a minor fire. In my defense, many of the monsters needing to be smited… smote?... whatever, attended them too. 

I petitioned an audience with the Chicago Mob Boss, Gentleman “Johnny” Marcone, in order to get into this charity ball he was running. I couldn’t tell if he was putting it on to restore faith with the citizens of Chicago or underground dealings that would be tremendously easier to achieve with a very large distraction and eyewitness testimony. I was sure it was a two birds one stone kind of deal. One of the monsters would attempt to kill another of Marcone’s guests, so I hoped that would be enough to get me an invitation. It was also a very large risk because Marcone might prevent me from coming and maintain he could take care of it himself. 

After a good long moment of silence, which I’m sure was just for dramatic effect and to annoy me, Marcone parted his fingers and leaned back in his chair. “Very well, Dresden. I’ll have a card sent to your home for an R.S.V.P. You’ll need to show it to be let inside.”

I stared at him with my mouth wide open. “Wait… you’re actually going to let me in?” I felt hesitant and for good reason. Marcone wasn’t known for being charitable... despite him having a charity ball.

Marcone raised an eyebrow. “I can rescind the offer, but I assumed that’s what you wanted, yes?” He intertwined his fingers together once more and pressed the nail of a thumb to his lips, staring right back at me with those piercing green eyes. 

I felt a disturbance in the Force. 

“What’s… the catch?”

Marcone arched an eyebrow. “Catch?” 

I narrowed my eyes and leaned forward. “I like to know what I’m walking into, Marcone. You try to catch me with my guard down and you won’t like the way I react.”

“With a fire, most likely.” Marcone murmured. “There isn’t any catch; however…”

“Here it comes…” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of me. 

“I would appreciate someone being there to keep you under reins or a short leash. So the invitation will be to you and Mr. Carpenter. You will both need to be present or there will be no admittance.” 

I went silent at the mention of Michael. Not only was that not bad for me, but it also allowed me to have a second person to watch my back. A person I trusted. A friend in a room full of possible enemies. My face felt a little hot as I thought about my last encounter with Michael. I consciously made an effort not to rub my buttock in memory. It’d been awhile since I’d talked to him and now I’ll have to ask him to attend a ball with me for Christ’s sake. 

Marcone continued to watch me, patiently allowing me the time to think through his mindgame. 

“Alright, fine. I’ll be sure to enlist my designated chaperone.” I said, trying to leave it open for anyone to really fulfill the role.

“Mr. Carpenter should be sure to wear something formal. And please try not to draw people to yourself…” He looked Harry over from behind the desk with one eye and sighed. “I doubt you have a suit, so I’ll have one sent to your home within the next day.” Marcone paused. “I’ll also have one sent to Mr. Carpenter as well. I understand he has a large family and it wouldn’t be right to rope him into something like this where an added expense might be needed.” 

I let out a heavy sigh, nodding my head in agreement. “Thank you, Marcone. I appreciate this.” At that, I stood up and made my way over to the door. Although I was thankful for Marcone’s assistance, it wasn’t wise to stick around long enough for him to sweeten the deal his way. 

And surprisingly enough, I was able to leave without another word. 

\---

My hands were shaking when I opened the invitation Marcone sent for me. I felt heat rise up in my face, my whole body began to shake. It was hard to tell if I was _furious_ or _extremely embarrassed_. Probably… a lot of both. 

The card read:

“To Mr. and Mr. Carpenter,  
You are invited to attend this year’s charity event to raise money for the purpose of medical advancement concerning coma patients. Place: Fairmont Chicago - Millennium Park, Ballroom Plaza 5; Time: 6:00 P.M.; Date: February 22nd; Dress Code: Black Tie Formal.”

Damn Marcone. Damn him to Hell. 

This was his plan all along. 

I threw the invitation on the ground and had half a mind to crush it under my foot or set it aflame, but Marcone’s threat about not letting me in without it or Michael made me think twice. 

This… was going to be awful. 

I picked up the large rectangular box that came with it and opened it up. The black suit looked nice and very well made. I didn’t doubt Marcone looked at my medical records and Michael’s to receive the most form fitting suit possible. 

I groaned, realising Michael probably received his own suit and invitation. He was probably wondering what was going on, meaning it was finally time for me to stop putting off talking to him. 

With some effort, I walked over to the phone and picked it up, quickly dialing the phone number of my good friend Michael Carpenter. 

The phone rang for a few minutes. I felt the strongest urge to hang up and pretend I never called, I could probably sneak in a convincing lie that it rang too many times and I decided to end it before it got farther than it needed to be, but I couldn’t decide in time.

Michael picked up the phone, and I could hear the low chuckle in his voice. “Carpenter residence.” 

“Uh… hey, Michael.” I said awkwardly, shuffling my feet. “You… uh… have a minute?”

Michael laughed. “You mean for a man I’m supposed to be married to? Anything for you, Harry, dear.”

Damn, he did receive the invite. 

“Yeah… so… here’s the thing. There’s this mission I’m on. Someone could be really hurt or worse. I had to ask Marcone to slip me into his charity ball. This is his idea of a joke, but… I would love to have you join me. Watch my back, help me out a little.” I bit my lip at the end of it, eager to cut off anything else I might say without thinking.

“Of course, Harry.” Michael said seriously. 

I loved how sincere and matter-of-fact it was. Michael is one of my closest and best friends. He’s always so selfless, which can be both extremely irritating and inspiring at the same time. I smiled into the phone, switching the phone to rest on my shoulder and cradling the receiver into my cheek as I let the cord stretch while I walked into the kitchen. “Michael, you’re the best.”

“Anything for my man.” Michael teased, chuckling again. “I will admit, I wasn’t sure what to make of the invitation or this suit that came along with it. Since it didn’t have your name on it, I almost sent it back, but… God always does things for a reason, so I kept it.”

“That and it had your name on it.” I nodded soberly. “I’m glad you kept it. Sorry you found out that way though. I kept meaning to call you and ask you, but it just didn’t happen.”

Michael’s voice sounded a little gruff as he switched to a more business like tone. “You should let me know what we’re doing so I can prepare myself, Harry.”

I shrugged, fumbling into my ice cooler for a Coke and popped the tab. “We’re trying not to be too conspicuous, and I don’t think you’ll need to bring armour or your trusty weapon with you. Not without raising suspicion with the other guests anyway. It’s not like you’ll need it, not for what we’re up against.”

“And what is that?” Michael waited patiently. 

I didn’t exactly want to tell anyone what I was going after, I told Karrin Murphy about it and that was enough embarrassment. It sounded ridiculous. Especially for the Western world who never dealt with the more Eastern myths and fairy tales. Thankfully, I managed to avoid doing anything like that with Marcone, but with Michael… he deserved to know.

“A Kitsune.” It was my turn to wait for Michael to wrap his head around the word. 

“Okay… a Kitsune. This actually sounds familiar to me. Something about a blizzard and the woman vanished?”

“That’s pretty much the most popular story about the kitsune. This one is a little different. A group of Asian businessmen recently came to Chicago for a deal with another company, at least, that was what they told their bosses. Apparently, they decided to summon a Kitsune with some Western mumbo jumbo magic. Not sure why exactly, but the moment they did, it killed all present.” I frowned at the memory. Karrin Murphy showed me the crime scene a few days ago, deemed a dead-end case for her to follow. It first fell to me because of the claw marks and bloodbath inside the hotel. We both considered it a possible werewolf, but the slashes in their jugular were too small and precise. And Bob also took it upon himself to tell me how wrong I was. “She took a human form and disguised herself, entranced a man, and I followed her tracks to this charity ball.”

“Why would she hide like that? Wouldn’t it be better for her vanish into the night?”

“Well, as the myth goes, Kitsune’s only fault is that once it’s found out, it does a variety of things. Most of the time it just leaves the poor sod, but this one kills if it’s revealed. Must be a slight deviation from the tale.” I mulled over everything I’d learned about this case in the last few days. “If the myth is anything to go off, she’s simply trying to find a good husband to bear a child to. What’s better in this world than the rich and famous?” 

I could hear Michael humming thoughtfully. “What’s the plan? Do we need to hold her long enough to dispel her back to where she came? Capture?” 

I rolled my eyes. “My manner of dispelling is burning her until she’s ash, but we could also take a more subtle approach and stab it in the heart with silver. Silver kills everything, especially if you’re shoving it into a heart.”

Michael chuckled. “Alright, I’ll let you deal with all the details. I suppose I’ll get everything set for a night out with my husband.”

I laughed nervously, hanging up after saying goodbye. 

Damn, this was going to be really difficult. 

Fuck you, Marcone. Fuck you.


	2. Chapter 2

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, surprised at what I saw. Marcone, true to his word, sent me a tuxedo that fit me perfectly. It must’ve been difficult finding a tux for a 6’9” lanky man in such a short time, even more impressive if he had it made from scratch. I pictured a sweat shop with tailors chained in a basement making Marcone suits on command. Either way, it didn’t look bad on me. I scratched the scruff on my chin and wondered if I should shave before Michael came. Somehow, I felt the urge attack more relentlessly at the thought of Michael. 

I went to the bathroom and shaved, managing to not nick myself (I always seemed to cut myself at least once), which, to me, meant I’d just used the rest of my accumulated luck to leave my face unmarred. 

Should’ve used it for something more important… like not getting murdered by a crazy fox lady. 

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I practised smiling, frowning, and saying a few lines followed by a few quotes. I leaned in and checked my face for stray hair I missed and also for fallen hair on the tuxedo. I brushed myself a few times. 

The doorbell rang and I rushed to the door, and then stopped in front of it. I stood there for a few seconds, staring at the large metal door like an idiot. God… I was acting like an adolescent girl rushing to the door, but waiting an appropriate amount of time to make it seem like I wasn’t hurrying to let my crush inside. Even though I recognised how stupid I was being… I still stood there for a minute to make sure he _knew_ I wasn’t hurrying to meet him.

I swallowed, reaching for the door and pulling it open, and mentally removed all the wards I placed in the process. My breathing hiked up when I saw his smiling face. I was having trouble breathing. Fuck. “Oh, hey, Michael. I didn’t, uh, realise you’d be here so early.” Smooth, Dresden, smooth.

“Hello, Harry.” Michael smiled warmly as I shoved the door open with my shoulder. “Seems like there’s a timetable involved.” He gestured to the long black limousine behind him with his thumb. “And Molly insisted I get ready hours ago. I left as soon as the limousine came.”

I looked past him at the limo. It was super irritating how much this evening felt like the prom. Especially since this would probably turn out to be more like Carrie than Mean Girls. I looked back to Michael and stopped. I looked great in this tuxedo, but Michael looked _amazing_. _Godly_ even. His hair was combed back, he was clean shaven but kept on his rugged farmer look, and the tuxedo fit him to a T. The fabric defined his muscles really well.

I felt my face start to heat up.

Michael watched me in return, looking me over too. “You clean up nice, _Mr._ Carpenter. I can see why I married you. Although… the wedding day is a blur.” He chuckled, putting a strong hand on my shoulder. “Are you almost ready?”

I laughed nervously, but gathered myself up and nodded. “Yeah, let me grab some stuff. We should hurry.”

“We’ll arrive when we’re needed.” Michael said quietly, stepping in after me.

I rolled my eyes, but made an effort to keep it from Michael. I wouldn’t want him to bend me over his knee again… I snatched up my bag and rummaged through it, pulling out the silver knife and one of my rings. I hid the knife under my clothes and put the ring on. 

Michael walked over and took my hand. I almost pulled away from the suddenness of it, my eyes wide. “What are you-”

He took the ring off and moved it over to my ring finger. “We want to look like we’re married, right? Don’t want to have the ring on the wrong finger, Harry.”

I blushed. “T-thanks.” I pulled my hand back quickly and headed toward the door. “L-let’s go.”

Michael watched me walk away for a long second. He smiled, his eyes softening slightly. He followed me out of the door, closing it with a grunt of effort behind us.

I turned around and locked the door, putting up my wards again. When I headed toward the limo I saw Michael holding the door open for me. Again, Michael was the perfect gentleman. It was difficult to keep the red from pinking my ears and cheeks. I could feel them warm. I knew it was happening. And it only made me _more_ embarrassed. Without a word, I stepped inside and sat against the cushioned leather seats. 

Michael came in after, closing the door behind him and settling in beside me. 

This was going to be a long night. 

\---

“A Mr. and Mr. Carpenter!” said the attendance crier. Loudly. Enough for a great number of the other guests in the room to look over in intrigue. I think the room even grew a little more quiet as the attendees stared at the two of us. 

I swallowed, shutting my eyes tight. 

Michael’s rough, yet warm hand touched mine and held it gently. I could feel the support he sent through it. His love worked like my magic. He sent feelings at the touch and I felt my hand tingle, like it’d fallen asleep, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling. It felt… nice. 

I opened my eyes after a moment and looked at Michael, who was smiling at me, waiting for me to make the first move when I was the most comfortable. “Well…” I muttered, “let’s begin the search before Colonel Mustard gets murdered with a claw.” 

We walked down the long steps into the ballroom, all the while Michael holding my hand. I attempted to search around for any beautiful women I could find, especially any breath-taking beauties intent on killing someone if they were discovered. There were a lot of women I’d deem attractive, but none so beautiful it kept my eyes on them for longer than a second.

Michael was a lot better at being subtle, his eyes gently sweeping across the ballroom floor, pretending to take in the presentation booth and the large tables set out around the dancing circle in the middle. He even initiated some polite conversation with the people heading over to discover who the new gay rich couple was.

I stayed anti-social and sorted out what the ball had. A number of tables were set out with various food and horderves, but it paled in comparison with the giant set-up of pictures with portraits of sick children and adults comatose in the hospital and the conditions of their families while their family stayed alive through machines. My memories sparked at the pictures. Maybe this charity ball meant more to Marcone than I initially realised. Still, when Marcone made a charity ball as a front for his dirty dealings, he seriously put a lot of work into it. I sincerely hoped the money actually went to the the families who needed it. Knowing Marcone, they would, and more.

Michael prodded me with a gentle elbow, breaking me from my thoughts. He watched me for a long moment, quizzically raising an eyebrow. 

I looked around us and saw he’d dispensed with the others, who quickly moved away to gossip about the two of them. “This is some serious charitying.” 

He looked over at the presentation and nodded his head gravely. “They don’t look well… I’ll be sure to pray for them tonight…”

I doubted it would stop with a prayer. Michael was good people. While some people would simply leave their good deeds at a prayer at their bedside, Michael made sure to speak with his actions and with his faith. He wouldn’t just go home and forget about what he saw today. He’d go and help build a house, create a bed, set up a church group where they gathered food to send, or something else extremely selfless. I like that about him. I wished more people followed his lead.

“Let’s dance.” 

I stared at him, suddenly scowling. “What?”

“Let’s dance.” He repeated, looking at the many people dancing in the circle. The song just changed, which might explain the sudden thought process. “You don’t think dancing around will give us ample opportunity to look for this fox woman without looking conspicuously around the ball the whole time?” Michael raised another eyebrow with a smirk. 

I almost said no on principle. I’m not the best dancer, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of all these people who were _already_ looking at us because they thought we were the token homosexuals of the ball. But… it’d be odd to come to a large place like this, with all the people in tuxedos and gowns, with a supposed _loved one_ , and not dance with them. 

“What do you think, Harry?”

“Yeah… that’s a good idea.” I bit my lower lip, staring at the floor. “I’m not a great dancer. I’ve got two left feet, and neither of them are exactly good at it either.”

Michael chuckled, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the floor of dancers. He put my hand on his shoulder and took my other hand in his own. Then he put a hand on my waist and began to sway back and forth, moving his feet to the rhythm. 

I clumsily followed him, letting him pull me along for a good number of steps. It didn’t take too long for me to get the beat and at least keep up with him steadily.

He smiled warmly at me, and I thanked whatever spirit resided over us that he wasn’t laughing at me. Michael waited, keeping it slow for me as we waltzed. He murmured instructions and suggestions on how to get into the swing of it all until I was able to at least keep the pace.

I was too busy making sure I didn’t step on his feet, or anyone else's for that matter. His hand felt warm gently grasping mine, every few steps his body and mine would get closer and I could feel the heat from him, every so often he’d lean down... and the look in his eyes… I was entranced. He just looked so serious… because… because someone might die tonight.

My eyes widened and I scowled, almost cursing and physically biting my tongue to keep those words inside.

Michael was looking for the damn fox lady, and I’m fooling around doing nothing productive.  
I forced myself to really focus on the room around us. My eyes flashed around me, trying to be half as good as Michael was. The couples spoke loudly with each other for the most part, but I knew the Kitsune would try to make herself as least conspicuous as possible. Gorgeous she may be, but she would make sure she didn’t stick out unless she absolutely had to. 

Michael squeezed my hand suddenly, and I looked up, following his gaze. A portly man chortled with bottle of wine in one hand and the waist of a stunning dark skinned woman with long slender legs and long dark hair that cascaded over her shoulder like water in the other. 

I suddenly squeezed back and Michael looked away from her and down at me. “That’s her.” I whispered, “Don’t look at her directly unless you have to. If she catches us looking at her, she’ll go ham and kill a lot of people.” 

Michael nodded soberly, staring down at me instead. 

The less pleasing alternative.

Mostly because I started to blush as I looked at people on either side of her when Michael wasn’t blocking the way. I hoped she’d dash upstairs with him, then we could follow and put an end to the danger. 

I realised the song had changed, but Michael managed to subtly change the tempo to match the song. 

“Harry…” Michael murmured. 

I hummed back, distracted. 

“I would like to apologise again for my behaviour the last time we were together.”

I swallowed, catching myself to stop from looking away from her. This was what I was afraid of. Talking about _this_. It was embarrassing enough that it happened in the first place, not to mention how much I ignored Michael afterwards. And now we were talking about it on the dance floor. His hand holding mine, his body so close…

“It’s fine.” 

“Is it?”

“Michael, I really don’t think-”

“-this is the time.” Michael finished. 

I glanced at him and saw he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He looked out over the sea of people, away from the woman as I said. Somehow not being the centre of his gaze brought me more discomfort. “Michael... “

I fucked up.

No. I _really_ fucked up. 

I glanced over at the woman. 

She looked at me.

Our eyes met.

Her eyes burned red.

She whispered to her soon-to-be victim and she pulled him to the stairs. And he went with her with a stupid grin on his face. He dropped the bottle of wine as they dashed up the stairs.

“Shi-” I stopped. I felt a warm feeling creeping up from my lower back. “We have to go.”

Michael nodded and followed me at a brisk walk to the stairs and after them.


	3. Chapter 3

I groaned as I hit the leather seats in the limo. “That’s the last time I try anything _other_ than a fire spell to take down evil demon spawn.”

The driver’s eyes widened in the rearview mirror. 

I couldn’t tell if it was because of what I said or because my tuxedo was ripped to shreds, literally. My pants hung like streamers around my legs, and my whole midriff and chest lacked any clothing whatsoever. Not to mention I had a few cuts on my face and body from where she slashed at me. 

Michael popped in a second later, looking something similar. He closed the door, saw the driver’s bewildered expression and nodded his head politely. 

“We _really_ enjoyed the ball.” I said, clicking the button to make the privacy window start to roll up. “He’s a _beast_ in those hotel beds.” The window clicked, and I relaxed into the seat, sliding down a little. What can I say, making fun of serious situations calms my soul.

Michael, however, scowled disapprovingly at what I said to the driver. He didn’t say anything, but apparently it didn’t sit right with him. “I’m glad we were able to stop her from killing him and others as well.”

I nodded. “Thankfully I didn’t get anyone killed, yeah.”

There was silence for a long moment. It stretched on as we listened to the limo passing other cars on the highway. 

I sighed, biting the inside of my lip. If the topic was broached already, it would be again. Might as well be the one to initiate it. “You know… you don’t have to feel bad about what happened last time. It’s really not a big deal.”

“I shouldn’t have invaded your personal space like that, Harry. You’re not one of my children.” Michael looked down at his hands, fumbling with the tatters of his tuxedo. 

I hated how my eyes traveled to his exposed chest, to the pack of muscles flexing as he breathed. “The problem…” I started cautiously, wondering how I should put it into words, “is that… I _liked_ it.”

Michael blinked a few times, then glanced over at me. 

I watched him with my back touching the bottom of the seat and my head propped against the back.

He looked at me and smiled, as if he couldn’t quite take me seriously with how I was positioned. He laughed.

And I laughed. 

It felt like a weight was off my shoulders all of a sudden. Like I’d been keeping my stomach clenched and could suddenly relax. It was ridiculous. The whole thing. My feelings, how it went, and what I was saying now. 

Michael was a true friend. He always would be. Thoughtful, kind, and loyal. I couldn’t ask more of him than that. I couldn’t ask him or expect anything more than one of the best friends I could ever have. 

We pulled up to my apartment not long after. Seems like the driver was uncomfortable with the two of us in the back seat and wanted us out as quickly as possible. I pulled myself up and opened the door. I pulled myself out with another grunt and closed the door. Before I realised it, Michael followed suit. He walked over to the driver, knocked politely on the window and told him he’d be right back. He’d need a ride home, if it wasn’t too much trouble. 

I walked around the limo and headed to my door without waiting for him. I didn’t know what was happening or what he planned to do, but I couldn’t fight the flu of butterflies in my stomach. 

Michael’s strong hand grasped my shoulder and turned me around. He raised a hand slightly to touch my face, gently holding his palm to my cheek. His other hand touched mine, holding it closer to him and stroked the back of it. “Harry... “

I stared at him, frozen in place. My feelings were all over the place, and I couldn’t pin anything down. I just watched as he waited for me to stop him.

And then he leaned up slightly and kissed me. 

I didn’t do anything at first. Shock does that. If I was afraid, my fight-or-flight reflex would immediately move to flight, but this was something completely different. I slowly started to kiss back, my lips pressing harder against his, breathing hard through my nose. I reached my hands out and wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling him in a little closer. 

He kissed back with additional passion, moving his hands to my waist.

We broke the kiss after what felt like a few minutes. 

I pressed my forehead against his and laughed softly. 

He chuckled too, touching my nose against the flat of his own. “Good night, _Mr._ Carpenter. I look forward to our second date.” 

He pulled away, turning around and walking back to the limo. I watched as he stepped into the limo and it pulled away. 

I smiled a little dazed, nodding slightly at nothing in particular before opening the door, bringing down the wards, and shutting my door with a thump. I pressed my back against it, sighing as I gently slid down the cold surface and to the floor. I knew I was grinning like an idiot, but for once in my life… I didn’t care.

“Mr. Carpenter…” I muttered.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry, Marcone, Michael, or any of The Dresden Files series.


End file.
